


Comatose

by The_Forgotten_Nobody



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, coma fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Forgotten_Nobody/pseuds/The_Forgotten_Nobody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After falling into a coma, Sherlock gets to hear what people really think of him. It's interesting what people say when they think you can't hear them. John's revelation is also quite...unexpected. Sherlock will never think of the army doctor in the same way again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comatose

Sherlock had never liked to prolong waking up; his normal ritual consisted of having his eyes blink open immediately, his head swing upwards and his legs out of the bed before he could process a coherent thought. This was why, when he woke up this time, things felt very strange indeed. One: his eyes did not blink open, his head did not move and his legs stayed stubbornly where they were. Two: when he actively tried to do all of those objectives they just  _wouldn't._ In fact, nothing would move at all. The only things that seemed to work were his brain and according to the beeping sound that repeated itself insufferably, his ears.

"Good morning Mr Holmes! Day five of your stay at Bart's Hospital. Awake yet? Hm, not today, eh? Ah well, John should be around soon, same time as usual! It's quite sunny out this morning."

The voice suggested it belonged to a young Welsh male and his words made it obvious he was a nurse here at Bart's. Most likely new, judging by how young he sounded and the fact he seemed positively cheerful. That would be gone around the first six months.

The young male nurse, who was currently fluffing his pillows –a tedious and pointless activity, also gave him some insight into his own malady. 'Not awake yet?', 'Five days'? Almost definitely a coma. Now, how he came to be in the unfortunate position of a coma was a mystery. His last memories before he woke from this state were surprisingly vague and Sherlock cursed his brain for the first time in quite a while. Perhaps someone would shed some light as to the answer seeing as it was doubtful he would be moving anytime soon to find out for himself.

Sherlock supposed his only hope was to wait for John to arrive 'as usual'. Of course John would be worried about him, Sherlock himself would even find himself concerned if the army doctor managed to get himself into an unresponsive state and he was a sociopath – or at least close to one. Until then he had to wait in pure darkness with only his brain and an extremely irritating incessant beeping. Boring.

John, regrettably, was not the first person to enter his room. Instead it seemed to be a doctor who was female (the click of the heels was a give away, unless it was a transvestite doctor which would be much more unusual and interesting but highly unlikely-Sherlock blamed whatever drugs he was on for these thoughts) and was silent the whole time she looked at his chart and checked it. The least she could do was speak aloud – how inconsiderate of her. Sherlock heard the door shut and mentally sighed. He did hope John would speak to him when he arrived, even if not about how he came to be in the hospital, Sherlock was willing to listen to anything as long as he didn't have to suffer this dullness any longer.

Eventually, after what felt like days, the door opened and the familiar walking pattern of John could be heard. It sounded like the limp was starting to come back; the stress of Sherlock's situation must be taking its toll on him. He would have to remedy that as soon as he awakened.

"Erm, hi again. I, eh, spoke to Lestrade today. Forgot you were, um, like you are and called for a case," John's voice was slightly rougher than usual and he seemed to be unsure of what to say. The words themselves were not surprising. Scotland Yard could barely handle a day without him, let alone five. London must be suffering in his absence.

"There have been two murders that are seemingly unrelated except the cause of death for both is unknown. One's a woman in her late forties and the other a teenage boy. I'm sure you'd be able to figure it out in an instant with that brilliant mind of yours." Interesting, John seemed more prone to give compliments if he thought Sherlock wasn't listening. It was nice. What was not nice was that John had now given him the temptation of a case that he would never be able to delve into due to his coma. He agreed with John though, he probably could find the connection quickly if he were able to see the bodies close up or find their backgrounds. But no, instead he had to leave that in the hands of incompetent fools like Donovan and  _Anderson._ The name was not any easier to think than say and Sherlock shuddered. Yes, London really must be suffering.

"Lestrade will probably come visit you sometime if you're not up by then. He actually really seems to care about your well-being. Strange if you think about it as you only learnt his name last year but I thought you might like to know all the same. Molly's been asking about you too. Mrs Hudson doesn't know yet as she's in Egypt still. For a man who claims to be a sociopath, you do have quite a few people who care about you. Mycroft has been to see you once already.' Thank God he didn't have to suffer through  _that,_ 'and he said he would come by again in the next few days if you haven't woken up." Damn.

John fell silent and Sherlock doubted he would say any more. There was only so much one could say to a silent companion without feeling slightly ridiculous.

True to his earlier assessment, John didn't say anymore until he left with a goodbye and a promise to come back the next day. Sherlock didn't know what he'd do without John, he really didn't.

-

**Day 7 - Lestrade**

Sherlock was not surprised when Lestrade awkwardly shuffled into his room. It seemed the man felt uncomfortable being there and Sherlock did not blame him. He supposed he must remind Lestrade of all the cases with dead bodies.

"Ehem, err, alright Sherlock? To be honest I don't really know what I'm doing here but seeing as everyone said it was best just to talk to you as if you weren't lying there looking asleep I thought I might as well give it ago. Erm, well I don't mean to inflate your ego but the Yard hasn't been doing so well since you've been gone. A case has been giving us a bit of trouble; I assume John's already told you about it. Never really realise what you have until it's gone, that sort of thing.' At least his talent was finally being recognised. Lestrade seemed to gain a bit more confidence and carried on.

'I have to say though Sherlock, somehow, after all these years and having to suffer through your quick deductions that make us look like, in your words, idiots, I've managed to gain a bit of a soft spot for you, I mean, I would definitely call you a friend. Nothing like what you mean to John though. Anderson said something yesterday, better left unsaid, but anyway, it was to do with your state and it was pretty nasty, even for him. John just let loose. All the pent up stress seemed to get directed towards him and before you could blink John had punched Anderson in the face. Broke his nose he did, not sure if it'll ever be the same again. Would have done a lot more too if we weren't obliged to hold him back. Got to say though, even Donovan looked ready to give the guy a verbal lashing'.

'Anyway, I'm not really sure what else to say but wake up soon yeah? We could really do with your help. Thank god you can't actually hear me otherwise I'd never hear the end of it."

Oh how Sherlock was mentally smirking.  _If only you knew Lestrade, if only you knew._ The incident between John and Anderson however was a pleasant revelation. It must have been recent otherwise he would have likely heard it from John himself. It was nice though, having John do that for him. No one had ever physically stood up for him like that before. Mycroft's way of doing his 'brotherly duty' to protect Sherlock had been to threaten people with whatever blackmail he could find on that person, or jail. While it was effective, it was normally delivered in a cold manner to said person and then a fleeting nod towards Sherlock himself as if he had done the grandest thing in the world. Sherlock knew it was only so Mummy would praise him for looking out for her little Locky.

Lestrade left and Sherlock felt content as he waited for John to arrive. Strangely enough, John didn't mention his attack on Anderson. He did however; sound exceedingly smug all through the visit.

-

**Day 8 - Molly**

Strangely enough, Molly became a lot more tolerable when she assumed he couldn't hear her. One would have thought she'd be spouting her undying love to him and praying he wake up. Perhaps even compare their, whatever it is, to one of those romantic novels he's seen lying about the morgue.

But no, instead she seemed calm and her voice was smooth; no stutter or breathlessness that normally accompanied when they spoke.

"It would really be nice if you would wake up Sherlock. I've missed having you pester me for the entrance to the morgue. Not that you have to try very hard, no, not very hard at all…" Well, at least she understood how much of a push-over she really was. Maybe she'd make it more of a challenge next time.

"I don't really know why I act the way I do around you. I mean, I know you're gorgeous. That's obvious to anyone, but I also know I don't have a chance in hell with you." Molly let out a slightly bitter chuckle and Sherlock wondered where this was going. "If anyone was going to have a chance with you it would be John. The only person you've ever managed to tolerate and be tolerated in return for a long amount of time. For a while I was jealous of him you know. Why did he get to be the one you didn't mind spending time with? Why did he get all of your genuine smiles and affection? You probably don't even realise you're doing it sometimes." That was true, John would say something that actually mattered and Sherlock wouldn't realise that he'd smiled until after he'd done it. Normally he managed to do it before John had seen but that obviously didn't mean others hadn't.

"Even knowing all of this I can't help but be a mess when you turn your eyes on me. Maybe it would be better if you did proclaim your relationship with John; maybe that little spark of hope that one day you would really _notice_ me would die and never come back. Heaven knows I need it to, to be able to handle a real relationship. Considering my last was with the world's only consulting criminal I need a normal relationship. So, Sherlock, when you wake up maybe you could act on your feelings for John, at least to make me able to move on. Don't worry about the morgue. I'm sure you'd find someway to get in."

Molly started to sniffle but Sherlock was too absorbed in his own thoughts to really take notice. She wanted him to proclaim his relationship with John? What would there be to proclaim that she didn't already know? They were flatmates that shared bills, worked on crimes together and occasionally went out to dinner or ordered a take-away. What else could she possibly mean unless she wanted him to say he had romantic feelings for John which he obviously did not….did he? Fortunately, Molly broke him out of his slightly concerning thoughts.

"I guess I've said all I need to. Goodbye Sherlock." There was a thickness to Molly's voice that Sherlock finally registered. Despite what she may think, Sherlock did hold a sort of fondness for the shy, love-struck girl, it just wasn't in his nature to tell her or anyone. In his mind, they should already know.

-

**Day 10 - John**

Sherlock had woken particularly moody today. When Eric (the cheerful young nurse) had announced the day and weather as usual, instead of feeling a sense of comfort in still being able to hear, he felt like screaming from the sheer tediousness of still being confined to an immobile body. Everything seemed to irritate him, from the high pitched voice of the nurse, to  _that blasted beeping._ How long would this carry on for? Days, months, years? Sherlock needed to move, he needed to be able to do something. There was only so long his mind could entertain him.

Sherlock carried on his internal moan until John arrived. Sherlock noticed the limp was getting worse but instead of the concern that should have accompanied the thought he instead thought childishly that at least he wasn't the only one in pain – whether it be mental or physical.

"I got a bit bored today and thought I'd clear out your room.' Oh this day was just getting worse and worse. 'There was a pretty foul smell coming from there. Honestly Sherlock, what do you get up to in there? I know you're probably going to shout at me when you find out but I had to throw away that box of toes that was under your bed. They had just started to rot so badly it was unbelievable. I also had to get someone in to clear that green slop up; it was starting to burn the carpet." John let out a chuckle but Sherlock noticed it was weak compared to the ones he'd heard before the accident (as he'd now taken to call it seeing as there had been no mention of an attacker).

"I guess the only good thing about this whole thing is that your body is finally getting the rest it's needed. You know, this could be your body's way of catching up on all the sleep it's lost over the years. God knows you've had at least half the sleep the people in the rest of the world has and that includes insomniacs" No, Sherlock was not mentally pouting like a child, he was not. It just didn't help that John was acting how Mummy used to when she found him in his bedroom as a child, working on an experiment he'd spent all night on.

Despite this, Sherlock found the anxiety he'd had most of the morning start to drain from him. John always seemed to be able to calm Sherlock, unknowingly or not. For some reason, John just being himself gave Sherlock a sense of security and peace. He'd noticed this a while after the realisation that John had ingrained himself so thoroughly into his life that he could not imagine it without the doctor.

-

**Day 11 - Mycroft**

Sherlock had rather hoped John had been wrong on Mycroft's impending visit but unfortunately it was not to be. There was no mistaking the third sound of the umbrella hitting the floor as he strode into the room. The footsteps were a bit heavier than usual. Must be cheating on his diet again.

"Hello Sherlock. Just me again I'm afraid. Mummy would come except she, and I quote, would rather remember you as you were than lying still on a hospital bed. She always has had a flair for the dramatics." Sherlock had to reluctantly agree. When he was seven and had broken his arm, Mummy was convinced he'd never be able to move it again. Not a wise thing to say in front of an already panicked seven year old. Fortunately, Mycroft had the sense for once to move her somewhere to calm down.

"I must say Sherlock, out of all your little… _incidents_ ; this has got to rank highly on the scale of both injury and idiocy. Honestly, everyone thinks you're in here for some daring chase through London and when they are told the real reason they are torn between laughing and shock that that is the reason the all mighty Sherlock is in the hospital."

Oh fantastic, now the only thing he knew about how he ended up in the coma was that it was something foolish. Well, it was only Mycroft's view and he was probably saying it just to spite him. Yes, that was it. He always was jealous of Sherlock.

"Do wake up soon though won't you. My job has become considerably more dull since I haven't been able to see what escapade you and your companion are up to. If not for me, wake up for John. He is very worried about you. We all ar.e" There was a slight quiver to Mycroft's voice that Sherlock had never heard before. Well, he might have and deleted it but that was beside the point. This was a side to Mycroft he rarely saw. Sherlock could not help but think –  _I'll remind him of this sentimental side the next time he annoys me._

It was no secret the Holmes brothers did not do sentimentality and did not like to be reminded of it if they happened to exhibit behaviour of it.

"Anthea sends her regards." That was the last thing Mycroft said before he left the room after the particularly short visit. The fact he came at all though was quite a feat in itself. It took a lot to get Holmes men to focus on anything other than their work and no, Sherlock did not feel slightly pleased that his brother, whom he had once admired as a child, felt enough concern to not only visit him once, but twice. No, not at all.

-

**Day 14 - Donovan**

This time it was an unfamiliar set of footsteps and he couldn't tell if they were male or female. Slightly disconcerting, but hopefully the owner of said feet would speak soon. A few seconds later, they did.

"Hello Sherlock." Was that Donovan? And did she actually call him by his name? "You should be lucky I'm not calling you freak for once but it doesn't seem right when you can't answer back. I have to say though; it's a lot easier talking to you when you can't say anything." Why had she even bothered to come at all? It was no secret they did not get on and he knew that she would rather have him away from all crime scenes.

"It's embarrassing you know. Having one man not even employed by the police be better than the entire force put together. It makes us look like morons and I know you think we are but that's only because you seem to be above everyone in intelligence. If you weren't there we'd look like perfectly capable people. But then I suppose half the crimes we, well you, solve wouldn't be solved and more innocent people would be hurt. That's the main reason I tolerate you, even if you don't really care about the people themselves." Really, how many times must he repeat himself? Will caring for them really help in the long run? The answer is of course not. When will people understand that?

"I decided to come because if I was ever going to apologise for the things I've said I might as well do it when you can't hear me. I know it doesn't really count but you probably wouldn't care for an apology and I would be too tempted to give up and call you something" This was definitely quite unexpected. Sherlock wondered what she'd do if she realised he actually could hear everything and the next time they spoke this would almost definitely be brought up.

"This is a one time thing mind you. Don't expect anything to change when you wake up. You'll always be a freak to me." If he had heard correctly there seemed to be a certain tone of affection with the last statement. Perhaps Donovan wasn't as bad as he assumed. Anderson was still a git though. That would never change.

"By the way, I don't really think that you're ever going to turn to crime. I see the way you interact with John. You do have emotions really; they're just buried extremely well."

Maybe he wouldn't bring this up after all. For once, Donovan seemed to be using her brain, and that in itself earned her a bit of peace from his cutting words. Just for a short while mind you. He wasn't going mad.

-

**Day 18 - Harry**

"So, this is the great Sherlock Holmes," Harry slurred. Sherlock could hear the unevenness of her footsteps and hoped that she didn't trip and fall on him. "You know, I don't see what's so great about you, why John likes you so much. In fact, he cares about you more than he does me. It's not like I'm his sister or anything and you're someone who gets him killed nearly every other week. Why, if I have to go into hospital he just blames me but when it's  _you,_ he makes sure to visit you every day. Even kicks me out when I try and comfort him. I wasn't even that drunk! I should have always guessed that little Johnny was gay but he was so set against it. Shoulda been a clue in itself. Why I bet you guys have the perfect life. Catch a few criminals then have some alone time at the flat." There was a pause and Harry's voice seemed to catch in her throat. A second later she was running out the room and Sherlock found himself glad. The Watson siblings really did have nothing in common but Sherlock hoped for John's sake that Harry only acted like this when drunk. He shouldn't have her for a sister twenty-four seven.

Though she did raise some good points about the people on John's people to care about list he found he didn't care much that she thought he should be below her. After the way she's acted she should be glad John still keeps some form of contact with her.

Later than day John did complain about Harry barging in on him that morning drunk out of her mind. He had no idea that Harry had come to see him however and he likely never would.

-

**Day 21 - John**

"Christ Sherlock it's been three weeks now. I don't know how much more of this I can take. The flat is just so quiet without the sound of you blowing something up or shooting something. Hell I'd even pay a criminal to do a crime interesting enough to spark your interest and make you wake up!" Oh John, if only it were that simple. It hurt enough to know 'The Work' was suffering without him, let alone John bringing it up.

"The thing is, I don't know what to do to make you wake up. To be honest I bet everything I'm saying isn't doing a damn thing and I'm just rambling like an idiot." No, no! Keep rambling, otherwise he'd literally die of boredom!

"Well I suppose this would be as good a time as any to get it off my chest then. At least this way there's no way for you to react." Hm, this was an interesting development. Sherlock wondered what John could be about to tell him. After all, he could deduce almost anything, why should John just not assume he already knew?

"Sherlock, I'm in love with you."

…Well, that was…unexpected.

"I have been for a while now and you have no idea how hard it is to hide it around you. I know it's stupid to be in love with you. After all you're married to your work, pretty much asexual. You said so that first time in Angelo's. And anyway, there's no chance, even if you happened to be gay, bisexual or whatever, that you'd ever be interested in someone like me. I'm just the army invalid who follows you around during cases then writes about it on his blog. John Watson: side-kick and blogger to the world's only consulting detective Sherlock Holmes. Not that I'm really complaining. Hell, if it wasn't for you I'd probably end up like Harry. Drowning my sorrows in alcohol and living in a constant drunken haze." No, John would never end up like that. He was better than that, he was a better man. John was so much more than he gave himself credit for. He kept Sherlock sane, he made Sherlock a better person.

"It was Sarah who figured it out first. The night we broke up she said she knew that you would always come before her. She was right of course but it never really hit me till then that that would always be the case. It wouldn't matter on the girl, one text from you and I'd be out the door. No matter how irritated or grudgingly, I'd be there. Sarah just helped me realise what my feelings were. Love."

"Still though, I picked the worst bloody person to fall in love with. You're never going to feel the same and I'm never actually going to tell you when you can hear me. I don't want to see the look of repulsion and I certainly don't want to move out. No, I'll just carry on like it's always been. I can do that." John let out a shuddering breath.

"At least I've told you. Even if it doesn't actually count, at least I've told you. I'll see you tomorrow Sherlock. Please wake up."

Sherlock barely heard John leave. His mind was running at a million miles a minute, a lot more than the normal thousand. John was in love with him. John,  _John,_ was actually in  _love_  with Sherlock. But the question was, what did he feel in return? If ever there were a four patch problem, it would be now.

**-**

**Day 24 - Mrs Hudson**

Sherlock would never admit it but he had dearly missed Mrs Hudson. Unfortunately, she had been on a trip to Egypt during his 'accident' and so had only found out about his predicament when she'd arrived home. She was a welcome distraction from his conflicting feelings regarding John's revelation. Mrs Hudson would allow him to pretend things were normal, well, as normal as things could be considered right now.

"Oh Sherlock, look at what a state you've got yourself into now. Really dear, everyone including me is so very worried about you. I do miss having you around; things really haven't been the same since you've been in here. Why, I even find myself missing hearing that blasted gun go off! That doesn't give you an excuse to do it more often mind you!" Sherlock thought a small chuckle at that. While he knew the bullet holes in the hall irritated her immensely, he was quite sure that upon his return home she would be more willing to tolerate it for a few days. He'd have to make the most of them.

"I'll make you a cake when you come back home! Maybe even throw a small party! Oh yes that would be nice. You, me, John, that lovely inspector, your charming brother, and perhaps that young girl Molly…I think I shall run the idea by John." Sherlock dearly hoped John had the sense to politely put down Mrs Hudson's idea. He had no wish to wake up only to be forced to spend his time at a 'party'. Especially not with his brother, Sherlock really wished he could make Mrs Hudson see sense with his brother and make her realise he was not a  _charming_ or good person.

Mrs Hudson carried on; unaware of the pain the thought of a party was causing the invalid. "John needs something to focus on. Poor dear has been so stressed these days what with you in the hospital. I had to lend him some of my sleeping pills the other night as he was kept awake by nightmares. He won't tell me what they're about but it isn't difficult to guess. You two really do need each other so don't you dare think about staying in that coma a moment more than necessary young man!" Along with the pang of guilt at the mention of John's nightmares (his ones of Afghanistan had just been starting to improve), Sherlock felt a warm feeling spread through him at Mrs Hudson's motherly tone. She was almost like a second mother to him and though he would rarely say it aloud, he did care for her deeply.

"I would like a married couple in the flat you know," she carried on wistfully. "You two already act so much like a couple. Almost remind me of how my first husband and I used to be, not the one you sentenced. You compliment each other so well and even when you fight there isn't anything that could really come between you too." Well the normality didn't last long. Mrs Hudson was not really helping him to try and forget things ( i.e. lock them in the storage unit of his mind).

"Do make sure you recover from this Sherlock. I can't bear to think how John would cope if you didn't. Why, just this morning he said if he lost you he would have lost a part of himself. Don't do that to the poor man Sherlock. Wake up for him." Did John really say that? He must have done otherwise Mrs Hudson wouldn't have said it. It was true that Sherlock wouldn't know what to do if John wasn't there for more, he just didn't realise how similar it would be for the medic himself. Why, anyone would think it would be a relief. There would be no violin, no random experiments and no embarrassing scenarios with his straight-forward speaking.

Then again, though John complained he never tried to change Sherlock and Sherlock was the one who gave John back the adrenaline rush he craved in Afghanistan.

For once in his life, Sherlock found himself thoroughly confused with what to do in. Emotions were not his forte so he could not identify his feelings towards John. Feelings would complicate things wouldn't they? So what if he did find himself slightly attracted to the short muscled build John possessed, it didn't matter. Did it?

Mrs Hudson hadn't helped things at all. No, instead he now had a  _head-ache._

**-**

**Day 26 - Moriarty**

There was no warning before the door slammed open.

"Hello darling! How are we today? Ah I see you're a bit occupied. No matter, I'll just talk and you can listen." There was no mistaking that Irish lilt. He'd heard it enough in his maddening dreams. Moriarty. Perhaps he was here to gloat about whatever plans he has as he thought he couldn't hear him. That would be very satisfying.

"Now, don't worry dear. I know you can actually hear me so I won't make the mistake of telling you all I'm getting up to while you're a little bit…invalided. You see Sherlock; I know minds like ours cannot be kept silent by a mere coma. You can hear every word I say but I don't have to listen to your petty come-backs! It's perfect!" Bloody fantastic. Where were Mycroft's people! How did Moriarty manage to get through the security? He was probably having one of his snacks again. Useless sod.

"I bet you're wondering how I managed to get in here. It was quite easy really. Dear brother really does need to work on getting competent people to watch over you. It's getting easier and easier every time and you know us Sherlock, we do love a challenge." So far, every Moriarty had said was pointless. What was the point of him coming to the hospital if all he was going to do was natter like a school-girl?

"Ah but I'm getting off topic. The main reason I came today was to give you a bit of an incentive to wake up. Things have been very boring without you Sherlock. You are the only one who can manage to figure out my patterns and come close to stopping me. The police force really is incompetent these days aren't they? But anyway, I want you to know that when you wake up you will not be bored for days. I have many things going on Sherlock. All of them waiting for a capable hand to find them." Cute, so Moriarty missed him too. He wondered how irritating it would be for the man if Sherlock didn't try and look for whatever Moriarty had planned.

"I know you Sherlock, you never could resist the temptation of a good case and you won't know. Perhaps I need to include your pet for a bit more motivation?" No. There was no way Sherlock was going to allow John to be hurt by Moriarty. John did not deserve it.

"Or maybe I'll save that until my next visit. Hopefully there won't be one. Do try not to die in my absence will you? If anything is going to bring the great Sherlock Holmes down, it's going to be me. Ta ta for now darling. See you soon!"

Sherlock decided then that he would resist the temptation when he woke up for as long as he good. He did not want to give that smug bastard any satisfaction. He would also be keeping a closer eye on John. Sherlock would rather see Moriarty die than see John hurt. In fact, Sherlock would rather die himself than have anything happen to his doctor.

-

**Day 28 – John**

Things changed on Day 28.

"It's been nearly a month Sherlock. They're starting to consider the possibility that you may never recover from this and I can't handle that Sherlock. You need to wake up so they can't do that. Someone with such a brilliant and amazing mind as you can not be broken by some simple bloody stairs! I refuse to put on your gravestone 'if only they'd had elevators!'" Stairs? Why on earth was John going on about stairs? Wait a second…

It was like someone had flipped a switch to his memory. Sherlock suddenly remembered walking up the stairs from a case, his bones feeling like lead and his brain being decidedly un-co-operative. He remembered taking the last step then a dizzy spell hitting him abruptly. His hands had tried to grab at something to hold onto but before he could his legs fell from beneath him and he started to fall backwards. The last thing he could recall was a hard knock on his head then quick darkness.

Stairs. Bloody. Stairs. He was here because of falling down the stairs? Sherlock found him grudgingly agreeing with Mycroft's statement that it was quite an idiotic way to fall into a coma. Oh dear, John was never going to let this go. He'd be forced to sleep more and maybe even eat if John was feeling particularly cruel.

"Come on Sherlock. You have to wake up. Please. I can't go back to a life without you. You were there when I needed you most. You gave me back the excitement and adrenaline rushes I would have missed had I never met you. I refuse to accept a life without you there. Sure you have your faults but I would give anything to have you wake up. I won't complain about you playing the violin, I'll try to not disturb your experiments and I'll ask Mrs Hudson to stop hiding the skull. I might even let you use my gun a bit more. Anything Sherlock, just wake up." Sherlock could hear John's voice choke up and he just about heard the brokenly whispered, "I love you".

It was quite an odd feeling to have a metaphorical switch flip twice in less than ten minutes. This time however, Sherlock realised one thing. He was in love with John Watson. He couldn't believe how obvious it was to him now. There was only one person who would be willing to do all John and said and yet still love Sherlock all the same. Only one person who could stand Sherlock's odd behaviour and never consider changing him. He was someone who would die for him and he would die for in return. Simply put – John Watson was the only one for him.

Suddenly, it felt like he was being pulled away and panic overtook him. He could not be dying! He had just realised he loved John, he needed to tell him. There was no way he could leave him on his own. Sherlock refused to, he needed to live, needed to breathe, needed to…

His eyes blinked open and the light he had been deprived of for so long blinded him. Sherlock distinctly heard a gasp from beside him but he was still trying to gain his bearings. Was he dead? No, it looked far too much like a hospital room and he doubted the first thing that happened in death would be being sent to a hospital room. That would mean he was alive then, which meant…

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock couldn't keep the smile off his face. He turned his face to see John looking at him with an expression of shock and relief mixed together.

"How are you feeling? Do you need me to call the doctor or' Sherlock cut John off in quit an effective manner if he did say so himself. In a bout of strength that one should probably not possess after just waking from a long coma he pushed himself up and launched his lips upon John in a breath-taking kiss that would hopefully be the first of many. At first John was unresponsive but then it suddenly occurred to him what was happening and pushed against Sherlock's lips with equal intensity. The kiss lasted for a good while before they parted from each other for air. Sherlock rested his forehead against a bewildered John and smirked.

"So John, you're never going to complain about my violin again then?"


End file.
